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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27414538">boys will be bugs</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/itisjosh/pseuds/itisjosh'>itisjosh</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>technicolour carnival [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - High School, Bullying, Developing Friendships, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Lunch, Swearing, but for like three seconds</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 00:53:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,190</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27414538</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/itisjosh/pseuds/itisjosh</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe trying to eat lunch in the cafeteria on his first day was a shitty choice.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Toby Smith | Tubbo &amp; TommyInnit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>technicolour carnival [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2005195</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>759</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>boys will be bugs</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>This was a shitty idea. </p><p>"Dude. Literally go the fuck away." </p><p>"Seriously, what the hell?" </p><p>Tommy feels a hand on his chest before he feels the shove, barely able to regain his balance. He clutches his tray in his hand, tightening his fists around it. If he tries to fight back, he'll get fucking suspension, and they won't. Tommy knows how this shit works, because it always fucking happens to him. He turns on his heels without a word, stalking out into the hallway, out of the cafeteria. Funny, how he used to consider those people his fucking friends. Whatever. Tommy slams open the door to the outside, throwing himself and his tray on the ground. He looks down at the scrapes and bruises on his legs and arms, wondering where the hell all of them came from. He knows that he's reckless, but..<em>fuck</em>. </p><p>Tommy watches as groups of other people come through the doors, laughing and talking. Wilbur said that this school was hard on people who hadn't had a background of being perfect students, and he was right. Of course he was right - Wilbur is almost always right. Tommy wishes he wasn't right, just this one time. He can deal with "bullies" easily. They're just scumbags with god complexes, and Tommy doesn't give a shit. It isn't the insults that get to him, it's the fact that <em>he'll</em> get in trouble for doing something. For standing up to them, to protect himself. He'll get expelled and they won't even be looked at, and it's fucking true for every single school he's gone to. </p><p>He knows that he doesn't make it easy for Phil. He wish he could make it easy for his foster father, he really does. Phil actually gives a shit about him, and even though Tommy'll be pawned off to the next person who comes by, he still likes Phil. Phil's..he's nice. He's smart, he's funny. He let Tommy into his home and let him adjust at his own pace, and it was nice. It still is nice. Wilbur and Techno are both great, and Tommy considers them his older brothers already. Which he shouldn't, he knows that he'll be leaving soon enough. None of his previous foster families could handle him for more than a month, and none of them ever even considered adopting him.</p><p>Tommy doesn't try to make it hard for them, he really doesn't. It isn't his fault he's loud and outgoing and..stubborn, and fucking stupid. God, he's such an idiot. No wonder he keeps moving from home to home like he's just some bad luck. It's all he is, isn't it? All he does is bring misfortune to anyone who dares to house him. </p><p>"Hey," Tommy glares up at the voice, curling his lip up into a snarl. The boy just smiles down at him, sitting down across from him. "Are you new here?"</p><p>"What do you fucking think?" </p><p>The boy just laughs, nodding. "Yeah, I guess so. My name's Tubbo," he offers a hand, and Tommy scoffs. He reaches out, shaking it anyways. Just so the goddamn kid'll stop bothering him. "What about you?"</p><p>"Tommy," he mutters, picking at whatever the hell is on his tray. He didn't even bother looking at what he was getting. It all tastes like cardboard, anyways. "What the hell do you want from me?" Tubbo shrugs, looking at all of Tommy's scrapes. Of course his eyes go there. "I don't fucking need help."</p><p>"I never said I was offering that," Tubbo meets his eyes again, raising an eyebrow. "But since you mentioned it, I'll offer," he slings his backpack over his shoulder, unzipping the front pocket. He takes out a first-aid kit, and..why the fuck does he even <em>have</em> first-aid kit? Who the hell has that shit in their bags? He pulls out a couple of bandaids, flicking off the paper strips into the trash. "Have any specific colour requests? I've got literally everything."</p><p>Tommy drags his knees closer to his chest, glaring at him. "I don't need help."</p><p>"I'm not offering help," Tubbo smiles. "I'm just giving you some bandaids. I'm new, too," Tubbo tells him, scooting a bit closer. "I get it. This place fucking sucks, huh?" He laughs, eyes crinkling at the sides. "Trust me, I know. It's real bad the first day, especially at lunch time. Why do you think I come out here to eat?" Tommy relaxes a little, wishing that Tubbo wasn't so easy to listen to. He sets his leg down, huffing a sigh as he lets Tubbo do his thing. "It gets easier, though. I think I've got some of the same classes with you, actually. What block do you have English?"</p><p>"Fourth." Tubbo's eyes light up, his entire face brightening. </p><p>"So do I! We've got a project today, actually. Wanna be partners? I know Clements always tries to make us double up. If I'm being honest," Tubbo grins, "I'm kind of shit at English. I'm dyslexic, and it's annoying to do anything."</p><p>Tommy raises an eyebrow. "What, so you get your d's and b's mixed up, or shit like that?"</p><p>"Yep," Tubbo nods. "I spell a lot of things wrong, too. It just looks like it should be spelt like that, but it actually isn't, and it's confusing and I always get marked off for that. Plus, it's free-seating, right? I'll just sit next to you, since we're friends now." Tommy stares at him. </p><p>"We're not friends."</p><p>"I'd say we are," Tubbo tells him, opening another bandaid. "We know each other's names, you know a fact about me. That makes us friends."</p><p>"You're just fuckin' weird, you know that?"</p><p>Tubbo grins at him, glancing away. "You know, I get that a lot. I think people just don't like it when someone else is nice to them. 'Cause they're supposed to be all strong and independent, or whatever. That's just not true, you know that, Tommy?" He smiles. "Doing everything on your own is awful."</p><p>"It's not so bad," he protests. "Not after you get used to it."</p><p>"Well," Tubbo claps his hands together, standing back up. He offers Tommy a hand. "How about you stop being alone? We're friends now, right? You've got someone else. You don't need to be alone anymore." </p><p>Tommy stares back up at him, but he reaches out, taking his hand. "We're not friends. But I'll do your stupid project with you." Tommy kicks his tray away from him, figuring someone else can pick it up. He shoves his hands in his pockets, listening as the bell rings. </p><p>"Here," Tubbo moves in front of him, carefully sticking a bandaid over the bridge of his nose. "And you're better now," he beams. "Alright, so English is this way. You can tell, 'cause it's in the C Hallway, and everything in this hallway is yellow. You're not colourblind, are you? Oh my god, I'm so sorry if you are, yellow is this colour, and I.."</p><p>Tommy smiles to himself as Tubbo keeps rambling on and on about everything, dragging him off to their next class. </p><p>Maybe they are friends. </p>
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